


Lemondrops on a Typical, Tuesday Night

by TheFlamingo013



Series: SakusaKiyoomi x MiyaShouyou [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cheerleader!HinataShouyou, Crack, Hinata Shouyou Stupid in Love, Hinata Shouyou is a Miya, Hinata Shouyou is a Swiftie, Love at First Sight, M/M, Miya Family Dynamics, Overprotective Brothers, Strangers to Lovers, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29425275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFlamingo013/pseuds/TheFlamingo013
Summary: Inarizaki’s captain, Miya Atsumu, would’ve gotten through his fourth flawless, consecutive service ace if it wasn’t for his baby brother obnoxiously cheering for their opponents.His baby brother, who was supposed to be on house arrest, but instead was on the bleachers with his bright red pompoms sporting the million-dollar smile that should’ve only been reserved for their team, in a goddamn skirt.“You can do it, Kiyoomi-san!”“Shouyou-kun, what the fuck?!”
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Miya Atsumu, Hinata Shouyou & Miya Osamu, Hinata Shouyou/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: SakusaKiyoomi x MiyaShouyou [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2159952
Comments: 42
Kudos: 194





	1. You

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine!  
> Here's some OmixMiyaShouyou fic. Same theme as The Clementine Disaster but it varies in the setting. We have a cheerleader au nobody asked for but I wanted one so-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some author's notes, especially for those following Heavy Is the Crown. I'll get back to it soon when the first half of my semester's done. At least the end of Feb. For now, enjoy this random OmiHina fic that hit me a good 3am in the morning when I tried to get some sleep. 
> 
> WARNINGS: Slightly OOC Hinata & Sakusa, Taylor Swift song references, and the Miya Twins being chaotic af. Also unbeta'd. Should really find one one of these days.

**2012, Interhigh Nationals**

“‘Tsumu-nii, ‘Samu-nii, ya pig-headed jerkfaces! I never want ta see either of ya ever again!”

“S-Shouyou-kun!”

“Yer being dramatic.”

Miya Shouyou hastily pulls on the wireless device from the corner of his bag’s pockets and jams it into his ears, putting Taylor Swift on full blast to drown out his older brothers’ cries and his teammates’ peals of laughter. His stomping was _so loud_ yet on beat with the chorus that it could be heard throughout the entire hallways.

Not that Shouyou cared. The dramatic flair that came with his irritation outweighs his ability to give a flying fuck at the moment. Pun intended because he’s a flyer in Inarizaki’s cheerleading squad and all but that’s hardly the point!

All Shouyou knows is that for the entire duration of the tournament, he _will not_ be held accountable for any unfortunate soul that comes across him. And yes, he was warranted to feel this way because of his stupid brothers.

Stupid, stupid Osamu for eating the last of his lucky, premium strawberry pudding that morning.

Stupid, stupid Atsumu for yet again, successfully scaring off another potential suitor. 

Shouyou should’ve said no, should’ve gone home and thought twice before letting his brothers get away with this farce once more. 

Which makes him groan upon remembering the sequence of horrible events earlier that morning. Poor Goshiki Tsutomu, who he had only met a couple of short times in the audience’s bleachers during his brothers' freshmen matches- adorably flustered despite being defensive about Shiratorizawa and why _they_ should’ve won against Inarizaki, was subjected to the twins’ horrendous heckling just for attempting to hold a conversation with Shouyou.

Admittedly Shouyou wouldn’t have minded had this happened a year ago. He knows his charms, would use it well by putting on a face that says _‘Nii-chan, this smelly person is bothering me.’_ But what initially was a competition on who could cheer on their team the loudest- Shouyou and his red-white pom poms against Goshiki’s bullhorn, became a comical memory when security reprimanded them before making a run for it. 

From then, the shouting turned to laughter and became a joyful conversation. Goshiki was an interesting person after all- obnoxious, loud and determined but nothing Shouyou wasn’t. And he cooks good grub yet-

Yet another one bites the dust. 

Getting into Shiratorizawa, one of his brother’s rival schools apparently, was a red flag in Atsumu’s long list of no-good bums for his baby brother of one year and seven months. He then leaves the rest of the dirty work to Osamu, who in turn berates the poor boy, with quote, _“You. Scrub with a god-awful haircut. Ya got chased by a pair of scissors or somethin’, huh, mini Ushijima-wanna-be?”_ , effectively scarring a fourth of Goshiki’s self-esteem for life. 

Gods, why were his brothers _like that_? Overprotective, overbearing, constantly breathing on his neck, his friends and friends he very much wants to date. Shouyou was fifteen! He may be young and reeking of desperation for his first taste of romance but that doesn’t mean he was gullible enough to believe anybody who tells him they love him. He had standards too, thank you very much.

Heck, not even Kita or their parents liked to reprimand him as much as the twins do.

In fact, had everything worked a little more in his favour then maybe he wouldn’t be stuck doing drills with the freshmen tributes that were forced to go along the school’s marching band. To be less of a tag-a-along in his brothers’ matches and _be_ an actual functioning member of the cheerleading squad instead. 

_“Yer adorable.” Osamu once patronized him when asked why they wouldn’t allow him a boyfriend or girlfriend or participate in cheer dancing activities for the other school clubs._

_This happened after Shouyou managed to execute a perfect basket toss and toe touch combination with the senior members of the squad on his first try. A rather difficult and dangerous stunt which sent Atsumu running across the gymnasium demanding “ta put him down this instance, ya fuckin’ scrubs!”_

_The experience of achievement immediately downgraded to a mortifying memory that burned holes at the back of Shouyou’s mind in less than ten seconds._

_“And yer too trusting for yer own good.” Atsumu chimed in._

Shouyou’s phone started to blast off an entire tidal wave of messages as he reached the vending machine. The continuous _pings!_ was putting a damper on his playlist yet he paid no mind and focused on getting his lemonade soda instead. 

Was he being absurdly petty at an ungodly hour of need? Yes. 

Can he find it himself to come back and forgive his brothers? Hell to the fucking NO. 

The twins can get bent, he had put up with their bro-com _way too long_. Shouyou will just have to put on a face and apologize to Inarizaki’s volleyball team, the freshmen squad who were forced there against their wills, and the entire marching band later. Not that he’ll be terribly missed at the semi-finals against Mujinazaka since their side of the faction doesn’t do much anyway. 

Coming to these types of matches wasn’t like American football and high-school musical basketball where he would actually _be performing_ an entire routine, even at expense of being a short, intermission number. It would’ve been more exciting to anticipate actual cheerleading than just reciting some yells, childishly taunting their rival schools, and prancing their fancy props at a stationary position. 

In short, as much as Shouyou loves his school and sometimes his brothers, being stuck in the bleachers was incredibly boring, especially for flyers like him who live off the adrenaline of being lifted into the air. 

“Oof!” 

Caught in his internal turmoil, Shouyou didn’t see the looming wall that _so inconveniently_ appeared in front of him. His soda pops, instantaneously spilling all over him and the tall stranger who most-likely went a little deaf from his high-pitch shrieks.

“What the heck is the big idea, ya-

You beautiful, beautiful man. Standing in front of him was Adonis in the flesh- tall, pale, and _devastatingly handsome_ with those curly dark locks and eyes that surprisingly complemented the bright yellows of his uniform. Even the twin beauty marks on the right side of his forehead gave enough definition to make-up for the surgical mask covering half of his face.

 _Love Story_ then comes into play, and the moment was timed _so perfectly_ that Shouyou wanted to live in it forever. 

Screw Sundrop’s citrus soda, he wanted a taste of _this lemonade_ instead.

“Um, are you alright?” Even his voice, rough yet velvet, sent flutters all the way down to Shouyou’s stomach. 

“Who, me? Yeah, I’m fine! Totally fine! Completely fine! Cool even!”

Shouyou coughs, reeling his accent in and schooling himself out. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of it, but people tend to instantly recognize his association with the A-class douchebag known as Miya Atsumu from the speech patterns alone. Plus, this was not the time to be flustered, especially when they started to feel the soda’s stickiness seep from their clothes and into their skin.

“Sorry about this, I-

Wordlessly, Adonis-turned-mortal being Romeo grabs him by the arm and to the nearest restroom. By the Fox gods above, Shouyou was not ready for this fast-paced development!

The erratic beating of Shouyou’s poor heart felt like it was coming up his throat, especially when he bought out a packet of wet wipes and hand sanitizer before laying it all down at the sink in a very meticulous arrangement. 

Oh, how responsible. Shouyou would definitely bring this man home for Mama to meet. 

“Hold still.” He says and Shouyou obeys, body stiff in position and eyes shut tight. He’d pucker his lips, but he didn’t want to be _too obvious_ despite knowing exactly where this was going-!

But then his nose catches a whiff of the soft and sweet smell of lavender. Accompanied by feather-like touches all around his bare arms.

Oh. 

Oh! Romeo was cleaning him up. Shame, but not a complete loss either way. Especially when his face scrunches up in full concentration as he lightly dabs onto Shouyou’s shirt and upper leg.

Before he knew it, the song was over as was the moment. 

“Sorry, but I’m afraid the stains won’t come off easily.” He points to the obvious piss-like splatters on the upper regions of Shouyou’s white pants. Seriously, who decided that the cheerleading team of all clubs in their schools would get light-colored uniforms instead of the usual and more favorable black? 

Romeo then takes his jersey jacket off and ties its sleeves around Shouyou’s lithe waist like it belonged there. It took every ounce of Shouyou’s entire being not to shriek in surprise, and there wasn’t much cause he was ridiculously short. The downside of carrying all the human empathy his brothers sorely lacked, he supposes. 

“I- I can’t possibly take this! It’s yours! And you might get cold.”

Romeo shrugs. “It’s fine. I have a match coming up anyways.” 

He leaves Shouyou a deer in headlights and clean as he could be. There were no goodbyes, not even an introduction or handshake, which was a little rude for the man who literally swept him off his feet and stole his heart. 

This makes Shouyou wonder, did he give himself out too soon? Did Romeo figure out that he was the baby brother of the infamous Miya Twin’s, bane of half the v-league’s existence?

It wasn’t that Shouyou was popular. Okay, that was a slight understatement. Maybe _a little_ in their prefecture with his distinguishable clementine-colored hair and loud enthusiasm for jumping higher than most athletes in their school, but Atsumu and Osamu had made things _incredibly difficult_ since he had moved up to Inarizaki’s cheerleading squad, permanently stamping a strictly _no dating policy_ on his back. 

Heck, he once heard from a grapevine that Atsumu walks around with his picture on his wallet. That he’d show him off to everyone like a wanted poster, gushing _how adorable_ his baby brother was but at the same time, to stay absolutely clear of him.

“There ya are!” Riseki storms into the restroom, face red and morphed with worry. “I’ve been lookin’ all over the place fer ya! Yer brothers were-” Whatever eight-paged sermon he had prepared died in his throat when his eyes landed on Shouyou’s waist. “Before I ask, do I even want ta know?”

“I’ll tell ya ‘bout it soon.” Shouyou shrugs, stuffing the jacket into his bag and taking Riseki’s for cover instead before leaving. 

Shouyou later finds out that Romeo had a name as any other functioning member of the society registered under the Japanese government.

He was called Sakusa Kiyoomi- a suitable name for a man who commanded the court in an eloquent and regal manner despite the sport’s penchant for brutality. And that wasn’t an exaggeration considering how he had watched the twins beat their bodies bloodied and bruised like the elite challengers they were.

Shouyou now knows this when Inarizaki didn’t make it to the finals and Mujinazaka faced Itachiyama instead. That and from the school ID Sakusa had accidentally left behind in the pocket of his jersey.

Shouyou was in complete awe, star-struck by his high verticals and raw power whenever he spikes or serves. This was Itachiyama’s #10, their institute’s ace, resident germaphobe and wild trump card.

In that moment, he briefly recalls a diner conversation they had when Atsumu had returned home from his first All-Japan Youth training camp. When asked if he made friends, Osamu laughs it off while Atsumu struggles not to commit fratricide.

_“As expected, there were lotsa interestin’ and skilled players. I even got ta play against that guy from Miyagi again, Ushi-waka- somethin’.” His face scrunches up from the memory. “My arms almost fell off pickin’ up his serves. Gotta watch out for that one next season.”_

_“But were they any better than ‘Tsumu-nii?”_

_“‘Course not! Overall, they were all buncha scrubs anyway. Most were really hard ta work with. Wastin’ my sets and all.”_

_Osamu snorts. “That’s an understatement.”_

_“‘Samu!”/ “‘Samu-nii!”_

_“What? It’s true. Yer shitty personality probably manifested through yer tosses.”_

_Atsumu huffs. “Well, the camp’s for trainin’ not braidin’ each other’s hair. Oh, and there is someone who could hit tosses just fine. Perfect even! Definitely lives up to the title of a nationally-ranked spiker.”_

_“Oh wow. Someone who lasted an entire week and didn’t give into the temptation of smotherin’ ya in yer sleep.” For someone who had a deadpanned face as a default setting, Osamu says the meanest things. Meaner than Atsumu and Shouyou’s entire vocabulary combined._

_“Shut it, ‘Samu. Yer just jealous that Omi-kun’s a better wing spiker and roommate than ya’ll ever be.”_

Osamu takes no offense, focusing on his food instead while Shouyou absentmindedly forgets who this _Omi-kun_ , only glad that his eldest brother was at least expanding his social circle. 

Currently, Miya Shouyou was _not_ glad when the daunting realization finally hits him in the blindside. Hard. If there's anything worse than crushing on your brothers’ rivals, it was crushing on their friend. And god knows Atsumu barely had any of those. 

“Ya hardly know ‘im anyways,” says Riseki when Shouyou came forth with his dilemma on their way home. The pinch server was the only Miya-approved person his age allowed in his presence under some oath the twins put Riseki under. Also, the one who was forced to sit with Shouyou on the squad’s bus rather than with his volleyball club to hear him whine about his hopeless, romantic endeavor of the day.

Clearly, Inarizaki was _so done_ with Interhigh as Riseki’s pessimism started to project at an incredibly large scale and was in no mood to deal with Shouyou’s antics. 

How they became best friends, he’ll never understand. 

But Shouyou was stubborn, pressing on the issue as if their school hadn’t just faced a devastating defeat. 

“Look, clearly it’s not gonna end in yer favor. Ya said it yerself, he’s Atsumu-san’s friend. Your _brother’s_ friend. Off-limits. Just return his stuff and get on with yer lives.” Riseki then looks to him with deep contemplation. “You _will_ return it, right?” 

“Wha- of course I will! ‘Em not a creep or somethin’.”

“I highly doubt that.”

Shouyou takes no offense that his best friend didn’t have the heart to completely believe in him, and that was fine because _he_ didn’t believe in himself either.

This is much was proven when Shouyou got home red in the face and determined to write the best goddamn letter he could ever wax poetry with. Playing in the background was the album _Speak Now_ on full blast for motivation before his mother came up to tell him to keep it down.

Ten drafts, two pages, and one fat lick on the envelope’s seal gum later, Shouyou stuffs the letter into a parcel full of soft, lemondrops as acting as packing peanuts and a ziplock of Sakusa Kiyoomi’s ID. An orange ribbon on top of the box as a finishing touch. 

He decides to hold onto the jacket, for now, convincing himself that it was only _imperative_ to have it dry cleaned first. For the more selfish and actual reasons, however, Shouyou needed something to hold onto, a connection per se in hopes that Sakusa would write back. 

This wasn’t the modern way of starting a courtship, and it would be best described as textbook Wattpad fiction where the pretty-faced cheerleader ends up catching feelings for their rival school’s star athlete. But Shouyou was determined not to let the story of them end in tragedy just yet.

All he had to do now was wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No hate on Wattpad! Just a stereotype that came along that year when everybody was shipping good girls with bad boys and I was like, hey, you know what, let's make an OmiHina fic based on that XD so I wrote this on a Taylor Swift music spree. 
> 
> All The song references in this chapter:  
> Should’ve Said No  
> Fifteen  
> Love Story  
> Story of Us
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! ❤


	2. Belong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extending this to four chapters. 
> 
> Warnings: High-school musical moment, do not attempt to replicate, unbeta'd and slightly breaking the fourth wall.  
> Enjoy and Happy Reading!

It was seven in the morning when the neighborhood mailman found Hyogo’s sunshine-sweetheart pacing around the post box for the nth time of the month.

He doesn’t even bother changing out of his sweaty tracksuit anymore or drying the dewdrops simmering down his clementine-colored locks. Instead, he’d stare into rectangular space where letters would occupy should there be one addressed to him, as if it would result in one magically appearing before him. 

“Heya there, kid!” The mailman calls out. “Still waitin’ on that reply, aren’t ya?”

Miya Shouyou goes red in the face, sputtering poorly-strung excuses he knew wouldn’t convince anyone anyway. 

It had been two weeks.

Two agonizing weeks of pondering and impatiently waiting that his regular workout routine had been moved up a couple of hours earlier to avoid running into the twins. He was not ready to face another plausible confrontation about his love life as the twins made it their mission to stick their noses in Shouyou’s everyday business.

“Well today’s yer lucky day ‘cause I’m ‘bout ta put ya out of yer misery!”

But hope comes in the form of a single envelope is presented to him, one that hold the key to his heart and the relief to his anxiety.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Shouyou jumps excitedly, prying it out of the mailman’s hands before hurriedly running back into his house. 

“Wait, ya forgot the rest-

Shouyou, unfortunately, slams the door on him, bolting upstairs and into the confines of his room, only tiptoeing across the hallways where his brothers slept. He could never have been more grateful to have his own space while the two were forced to share a bunk bed. Disadvantages of being born to share everything by default, he supposes. 

He then locks the door and jams the top rail of his seat on the knob for safety precautions, this due to the unfortunate fact that his brothers like to barge in and out of his room without knocking, before calling his best friend with little to no regard of the time. 

“There’s a special place in hell fer people like ya, Shou.” Riseki rasps.

“It’s here! It’s finally here!” Shouyou ignores the loud exasperation from the other end of the line as he eagerly hops into his bed and under the covers, _relishing_ in the feel of butterflies in his stomach as he held the dull, baby blue envelope close to his chest. “Sakusa-san wrote back.”

Riseki groaned, but Shouyou knew better. Even though he could picture his best friend rolling his eyes at him for acting like a squealing schoolboy with a crush, not that he isn’t, a small smile would grace his lips.

His sacrifice for his beauty sleep will not be in vain. 

“And so? What did he say?”

“He said-

Shouyou voice goes from loud excitement to soft whispers. He tries not to be disappointed. Really tries. While it took him hours and an ample amount of caffeine to write to Sakusa, the latter responded with a simple _“thank you”_ and _“you can keep the jacket, I have a spare.”_ No hugs and kisses. No more, no less. Horribly blunt and on-point. 

“Figures. He’s quite the privy person.”

“Oh? And how’d ya know that?”

“Suna-san.”

Oh.

Oh that made absolute sense. Suna Rintarou was a class-A, gossip mongrel within the v-league who knew anything and everything about anyone. That’s why the volume of his hair was so fluffy, it’s full of secrets.

Shouyou should’ve thought to turn to him the moment he had Itachiyama’s ace’s name. It would’ve only taken a discreet exchange of fruit jellies and a month worth of cleaning after the gym on his schedule for a paper full of classified intel. Even though Suna was his brothers’ mutual friend, Shouyou was confident he would’ve been able to buy his silence with just an extra, chocolate milk box.

So he sighs. Devastated. Broken-hearted. Too late for regrets and take-backs. Now that he thinks about it, the letter must’ve overwhelmed Sakusa into thinking he’s some sort of an enthusiastic creep. That and the lemondrops and orange ribbons could’ve been overkill.

As expected of a Miya. Unpredictable. Overbearing. Loud and obnoxious- 

“Wait, yer giving up already?”

“… I thought ya wanted me to?”

“Not that ya ever listened anyway so might as well see through it to the end. Just proceed with caution, take heed of the bro code and all.” Riseki hums. “‘Cause the Miya Shouyou I know doesn’t back down without a fight. Try lookin’ into it more. There has to be somethin’ ya have on him.”

Shouyou then raises the letter up his face and squints hard into the lights when he notices the residues of the leftover sentences Sakusa must’ve previously written before scratching out. Shouyou knows this well because his papers also have the tendency _to dent_ from his horrendous handwriting. Not that Sakusa’s were. They were immaculate, elegant and -

And that’s beside the point!

Shouyou immediately sat up to grab the nearest pencil from his desk and began to shade the letter’s middle portion. 

_“ he c n ies w re go d. W ere d d ou uy it?”_

He tilts his head in confusion before proceeding to fill in the blanks. 

_“The candies were good. Where did you buy it?”_

“Oi, what’s goin’ on there? Or in that pretty, little head of yers?”

Shouyou grins. “I think my love life isn’t doomed yet after all.”

Three days later, Sakusa Kiyoomi is unexpectedly greeted with another parcel from Hyogo. It had the same size as the box he had previously received with his student I.D. but now filled with clementine, sugary spheres, all individually wrapped in translucent plastic. A single note in the middle that says- _“I made them myself.”_

**2013, Spring Nationals**

Inarizaki loses to an upstart, no-name school from Miyagi. A tenacious and relentless murder of crows named Karasuno, led by the infamous tyrant king of the court that took Shiratorizawa down before stepping into what could be considered the world stage of their division.

30-32.

No amount of jeering and rhythm lures from their marching band or Shouyou’s ensemble of the squad was able to deter them into losing. 

Shouyou internally winces. It was embarrassing enough that their school loves to resort in using such underhanded and childish tactics, only to be topped by Karasuno’s Taiko set which was _a hundred times cooler_ , but losing to them too? It’s downright humiliating.

Even though the twins undoubtedly had a great time despite being driven to the corner more than once, as playing the same sport over the years and dominating it would’ve been boring without unpredictable challengers pushing them to improve, the loss stung regardless. It was their last game with Kita as their captain, and they’ve never made first place.

With lips pressed like thin lines, Shouyou secretly stuffs two premium, strawberry-flavored puddings into his brothers’ bags before sneaking away. 

It wasn’t that he was doing anything bad. Nope. Not at all. Wanting to see the boy he had been exchanging letters in secret and homemade candies with for over half a year was merely to appease his curiosity. Sakusa wanting to talk to him in person would only be a bonus. Plus, the team would’ve wanted some time ‘alone’ anyway and Shouyou would very much respect their space. 

He spares Riseki with a knowing glance, who in turn sighs dejectedly at him before nodding and shooing him away just in time before his brothers entered their designated locker room.

“Where are ya goin’, Shou-can?”

_Drats._ Shouyou forgot that the freshmen squad, who were still being forced against their wills to accompany the marching band at every competition, loved to follow in his trail. One part because they look up to his athletic prowess, two parts because his brothers told them to. Something about needing protection from number-asking scrubs.

“Are ya goin’ ta see yer boyfriend?”

“Who?”

“I heard its Itachiyama’s # 10.”

“W-what? Who told ya that?!”

“Suna-san.” They chorused.

Shouyou feels the irritation and betrayal boiling inside him. Trust Inarizaki’s middle-blocker to tell _everyone but the twins_. All that sneaking around for at the crack of dawn for what he had hoped was a smooth transaction with Suna for nothing. Now he wants a goddamn refund.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” He hissed. “We’re friends.”

They all tilt their heads, expressing clear disbelief as if Shouyou was incapable of expanding his social circle without the _Miya-approved stamp_ from his brothers.

“Fine, come with along if ya want. Just don’t whine if ya get bored.”

The squad cheers before trailing after him in a straight line, which was comical considering he was the oldest at the same time shortest member of the freshmen ensemble.

They make their way to court E, the sub arena conveniently far from where Inarizaki’s matches took place and undetected by the sulking marching band.

The squad was brimming with excitement to have a front-row seat to assess the audacious prince who has stolen Shouyou’s heart as said in Suna’s narrative but what taken aback by the sight that greeted them instead- an incredibly aggressive crowd with Itachiyama four points behind, their captain with a sprained ankle, and the remaining players were no doubt beyond exhausted just from one rally.

Their supporters were now cheering louder more than ever; despite the extremely poor coordination that came with it as if their abrasive voices were going to somehow light a motivational fire within the players’ asses.

_It doesn’t work that way_ , Shouyou grimaces. He knows this from experience as someone who had been his brothers’ personal cheerleader over the years. Despite having good intentions, the crowd was indirectly projecting their anxiousness veiled by enthusiasm which in turn, puts a moral damper on Itachiyama. The mood was inadvertently affecting their players in the worst way possible. 

The pressure was _so suffocating_ that it wouldn’t be a surprise if Itachiyama loses the National title this year.

“Say,” Shouyou speaks up, eyes laced with concern and never leaving Sakusa’s slightly slumped form. The dark rings around his eyes and the sweat beading from his brow was a clear indication of the fatigue wearing down on him. Anymore and he could collapse. “Would any of ya like to perform a short routine with me?”

His companions look to one another, having been deprived of this opportunity since their team failed to qualify for sectionals and stuck dancing to the beat of the marching band’s drums instead. With nothing to lose as their school had already been eliminated from the bracket, they collectively concede with the signature, fox-like grin only students of Inarizaki were capable of making.

_“Hell yeah.”_

What follows is something that is neither advisable nor encouraged despite the eminent romanticization of the scene in various movies or literature. This is noted from the creators to their viewers and the authors to their readers. While the entire arrangement was not something of a dire level to be considered _illegal_ , it was definitely unheard of.

Fortunately, common sense doesn’t exactly apply to Miya Shouyou and his lack of consideration to those who will be affected by the consequences of his actions. He was greedy like that. 

So when the lights of center court blacks out for a mere ten seconds, both sides of the opposing teams’ call for a timeout while they sort the technical difficulties evident in the scoreboard. An announcement was made to ask for everyone’s patience and cooperation which increased their agitation more than breaking the supposed, losing momentum.

What everyone didn’t expect, however, was the commanding presence of eight cheerleaders in the middle of the court the second time the light flickered on and off, arms on both sides of their waist equipped with their signature red and white pompoms. 

A modified arrangement of Taylor Swift’s _Sparks Fly_ blasts through the speakers, accompanied by a countdown yell from the suspected ringleader of the impromptu performance. 

They start off with a sequence of tumbles, reforming their stances without missing a beat, dance motions organized, and transitions clean before forming a basket toss with none other than their skilled flyer, Miya Shouyou, who effortlessly executes a star twist before landing back into the cradle.

Nobody moves to stop them, too stunned by the unexpected display of cheerleading.

Hence, the entire routine continued uninterrupted for the last one minute and twelve seconds as they finish off with a pyramid, Shouyou immediately dives in as the inside hitch accompanied with an intermediate jump before getting caught by two more flyers who raises him by their legs.

And then it was over, their chest heaving as Shouyou comes down the excitement of their performance all the while leaving Sakusa and the rest of the audience breathless. He momentarily counts this as _a win_ before the entire squad breaks into a sprint from security.

Their eyes met momentarily, gleaming bright ambers to dark ones, as Shouyou cheekily blows a kiss in his direction to which Sakusa unexpectedly makes a gesture to catch it. He mouths a quick _thank you_ before the clementine-haired flyer disappears out of sight.

It was pandemonium from then on. With the commentators immediately attempting to take back control despite their voices being drowned out by the eager crowd and players alike, wondering _what in the hell_ had just happened. 

Shouyou’s laughter could be heard echoing throughout the hallways. His cheeks were flushed with at least ten shades of crimson both the adrenaline of the performance and his smile was _so wide_ it painfully threatened to break his cheeks.

Sakusa Kiyoomi was the type of person he’d drop everything for. And it wasn’t just the physical attraction speaking, but the unexpected bond they’ve formed in correspondence.

Sakusa, who was socially-awkward but extremely reliable to his teammates, chose to indulge in their little candy-filled letter exchange. 

Sakusa, who was a meticulous perfectionist and germaphobe, wakes at six in the morning to feed the random neighborhood dogs he’d pass along his jogging routes. 

Sakusa, who was an incredibly busy person, took the time to send him a box of fever coolers and cough drops upon recognizing the symptoms of his cold despite being miles away and with only a paper between them. 

Sakusa, who was the kind of person who would send Miya Shouyou running, despite knowing he wouldn’t get far.

This wasn’t a schoolboy crush anymore. _This was love._

At the end of the day, Itachiyama still loses on the quarterfinals to Inubushi East High, but they leave the national stage with no regrets and the burning determination to do better. That and teasing Sakusa relentlessly upon discovering that his secret pen-pal was none other than the infamous Miya twin’s baby brother all along. 

Shouyou on the other hand laments on the fact that they hadn’t been able to talk in person as he and the rest of the freshmen squad were sent back home earlier for punishment over the stunt they’ve pulled. 

They get an earful from everyone- the twins, the entire volleyball team, the marching band, the teachers, and their upperclassmen. Even the school’s stray cats were looking at them with disdain for cheering on another team.

Shouyou takes full responsibility and volunteers to clean up the gym after use by himself, but the freshmen squad joins him anyways. Thanking him for the opportunity as it was the first time in a very long time they’ve experience stepping into the limelight once more.

Of what it was truly like to be a cheerleader.

It was only sometime later when Shouyou was making another batch of candies, Persian-lime flavored ones this time which also serves as a sour repellent for Osamu’s very grabby hands when he receives an unscheduled parcel four days earlier than their regular delivery time.

 _Strange,_ he thinks. Normally he would be the one initiating their conversations, sending treats that Sakusa admits to liking so much, just to get a reply out of him.

Now he was met with a single Sundrop citrus soda and a note that says- _“Go out with me this weekend. Tokyo Skytree at 8:00 pm.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for date night ;)  
> Song used for this chapter: Sparks Fly


	3. With

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayyyy. One of my exams were rescheduled earlier so I had to prepare first. Now that's over with, UPDATE.

The weekend couldn’t come fast enough that Shouyou deals with his anticipation by daydreaming during class hours and practice. 

“Miya, focus!”

“Roger that, captain.” he calls back after icing the bruises on his knees.

The freshmen squad were still serving their punishment for the stunt they’ve pulled during Spring Nationals, and while exempted for any performances until the end of the season, much to their relief, were still expected to practice their tumbling drills, given that they do it eight times more rigorous than usual.

Not that Shouyou was complaining much. He had always loved the hours spent with his squad, be it on the gym or outside the vast greenery, no matter how sore was the bodies they take home were. 

This time, however, he just simply, couldn’t wait for Saturday night.

Fortunately, someone out there was looking out for Shouyou, urging him to take advantage of Atsumu and Osamu’s schedules, as both were now captain and vice-captain respectively in their senior year. It was only _a miracle_ that they hadn't gotten a gist of what Shouyou had been up to, especially when the loss at Spring Nationals was still fresh off their minds as well as Kita and Aran’s graduation.

Shouyou barely saw the twins since then, be it diner or early in the morning where he would find them in their genkan sweaty and red in the faces from a jog hours earlier than when Shouyou would regularly start his.

Their poor mother was exasperated, wondering where three of her sons had gotten the athletic blood running in their veins because it sure as hell wasn’t from their father. 

And while Shouyou pitied her, or missed Kita and Aran just as much, the gods were shining a light on him to proceed with the plan which was for Riseki to hold the fort for the entire night, under the guise that Shouyou was sick and would be resting past diner. His mother, fortunately, believed him and swore to ban the twins from badgering him.

_“Go out with me this weekend. Tokyo Skytree at 8:00 pm.”_

So Shouyou eagerly finishes his drills, his chores, and all the things he had to do before locking himself in his room to pick his clothes that took three hours before settling with a vermillion shirt under his most expensive gray, cashmere coat by the time Riseki arrives through his window.

“Enjoy.” Says Riseki before closing the window on him to relish the comic books and cookies laid out for him to buy his cooperation.

“Oh, I will.”

* * *

Miya Shouyou _burned_ with the desire to reach the top. Overly ambitious, sometimes arrogant, or greedy. Determined to make up for the fact he was too short, too small to be a base or backspot. Too weak to carry the weight of the team. Too overshadowed by his bright and talented brothers who were stars in their own court.

Yet all those things, _so trivial_ and actually unimportant, never stopped him from getting what he wanted. It was as if Shouyou had been purposely gifted with the raw abilities to jump higher than those who were taller than him, to easily perform the stunts, twists, and turns that were usually met with much difficulty. An equal exchange for the physicality he lacked.

Osamu was once worried for him, says that he’ll burn out before he reaches his twenties. Atsumu on the other hand, reassures him after calling their brother daft, because it was more than okay to surrender your entire being to something you love that in turn, clearly loves you back.

That was volleyball to the twins, as cheerleading was to Shouyou. 

Then Sakusa Kiyoomi came into his life, putting a brake on his endeavors as if he was a reminder that it was okay to rest. To stop for a bit, _breathe_ before climbing back up again. 

The moment Shouyou had laid eyes on him upon their untimely encounter pulled him crashing down and back into the world he thought he had fled away from.

For someone who had a penchant for an egoistic type of love- one commanding the audience’s attention whilst suspended in the air for three magical seconds, Shouyou never thought he was capable of giving pieces of his heart more to someone else other than himself. 

* * *

Four hours in a tranquil train ride from Hyogo to Tokyo later, Shouyou arrives at the station’s platform in their designated place and right on time. He then finds himself across a finely dressed Sakusa with his signature facemask in a lilac shirt and a bouquet of sunflowers.

“Pleasant evening.” He says before awkwardly shoving the flowers into Shouyou’s small hands.

“H-hi.” Shouyou responds. 

Thinking aback, the two have taken quite the risk when they’ve never bothered to get each other’s phone numbers and relying on an outdated method to communicate instead. Not that Shouyou regrets it, as he found the aspects of using letters quite romantic and that it worked splendidly in their favors, even when the walk to the Skytree was awkward.

The slight, uncomfortable situation was expected to happen anyway, given that writing in paper bought time to rethink everything to talk about than easily saying it aloud. 

Not more than once did Shouyou try to say something the same Sakusa time does before both ending it in silence or the ill-fitted timing when their hands make an attempt to lace its fingers together. It took a few more tries before they finally settled by hooking their pinkies together, a soft pink shade dusting their cheeks. 

They arrive at the restaurant the same hour the early eve finally blankets the sky. 

During the walk, Shouyou tries to contain his excitement every passing moment he encounters something he could consider a city splendor- the tall and glassy buildings, the exuberant crowd, and even the buzzing sounds of traffic. While he was not a complete stranger to the busy streets of Tokyo, it was the first time in a long time he had roamed freely. No overbearing brothers to hold his hand, or a competition riding on his back.

But nothing compares to Skytree where its sheer elegance and crystals made Shouyou feel underdressed for the occasion and is most certainly grateful for the lack of people around him at the moment. Everything was more convenient than on, from the delicious steamed vegetables and juicy steaks to the bitter wine he almost spat out after one sip.

_Too convenient._

“... Sakusa-san, did you reserve the entire restaurant to ourselves?”

Sakusa immediately ceases all movements, eyes everywhere except to whom he was dining with. “I never did like crowded places.”

“Sakusa-san!”

“I knew it. It was Motoya’s idea, even though I kept telling him it was too much. It is _too_ much, isn’t it? I- 

“Hey, hey calm down now.” Shouyou immediately reaches out for his hand, rubbing soft circles around the back of his palms. It was a rather bold move on his part, but Shouyou wasn’t new to panic attacks. He had seen Atsumu clench his teeth and make half-moons on his palms until they bleed in frustration, or Osamu puking his guts out in an empty cubicle. On average, an episode would span for a short number of minutes but even then the aftermath wasn’t exactly helpful either. 

Shouyou then made it his personal mission to notice even the smallest sign of indication that serves as an emotional trigger and intervene at the early stage possible. “I- its just, _woah_ , like I know ya were rich but I didn’t think ya’d be _filthy_ , crazy Asian rich.”

He bit his tongue, trying to reel his accent in. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Hold back, cut your sentences short. I’d rather hear you speak your mind freely than rethink every sentence.”

Shouyou sighs. “... Ya don’t think how I talk is weird?”

“No, why would I? Though I find it amusing how you tend to switch from Kansai-ben to native in a millisecond.”

“Why, thank ya. Gran’s from Miyagi and I used ta spend lotsa time with her whenever ‘Tsumu-nii and ‘Samu-nii would suffocate the entire house with their fightin’. One time, it was over who ate all the gingerbread cookies before Christmas morning.”

“Was it Mi- Osamu?”

“Nah, it was me.”

Sakusa chuckles, or at least it was how it looked as he tries to muffle his laughter under his sleeves. “Strange, yet I could definitely picture that.”

“Right. Lucky you, yer siblings are way more mature than those two.”

“Well, they aren’t as rowdy as the infamous Miya Twins but they certainly have their moments.”

In a way, Sakusa was very much like him, even though he grew up in a more luxurious yet cold household but with the same concept of overachieving older siblings- a violin prodigy of a sister and brother attending a prestigious medical school overseas. But through it all, he was still loved.

Shouyou knows this from the hint of fondness Sakusa uses when he writes about them. 

“Nii-san once stole her car, just sometime during Springbreak to attend some underground concert.” Sakusa slightly spins the stem of his glass. “It was the first time he acted so callous, _so rebellious_ , but med schools do that to you apparently. He got home around four in the morning, slightly drunk and fortunately not caught by anyone but our sister.”

“I guess you could say, we all learned a valuable lesson that night.”

Their wine glasses meet, with Shouyou trying to keep a straight face from the sheer bitterness of the taste while Sakusa elegantly sips his. “Think you could handle some of that too?”

“I’d rather not drink and drive, Shouyou. It’s rather irresponsible of you to suggest so.”

“No!” Shouyou throws his head back in laughter. “I mean, yeah please don’t drink-and-drive but I’m talkin’ ‘bout the thrill of it. The danger.” 

“Well, I’m on a date with you, Miya Shouyou, risking your brothers’ wrath. Does that not warrant a certain level of danger, should they find out?”

The desserts come in, fresh lemon bars and caramel, but their conversations don’t stop. It was as if the veil of silence had been lifted and replaced with a comfortable blanket instead. One of familiarity, laughter and fondness. Of casual talks between the fine lines of humor and flirting under the guise of alcohol despite it being actually none-existent in their beverage. 

Shouyou would find out later, when the placebo of liquid courage leaves his system. For now, he chose to enjoy the moment with the bittersweet and soft taste of cake in his mouth. Then the string quartet takes a change of pace, or musical arrangements rather, as they play _a very familiar_ song.

“Is that-?!”

“A Taylor Swift number. Um, I had an inkling of your musical taste and placed a special request for the entire night.”

Shouyou raises a questioning brow.

“And Motoya looked into your socials.”

The rather upbeat chords of _Our Song_ resounded throughout the vast room, encouraging them both out of their seats and into what they could consider a spacious, makeshift dance floor. 

“May I have this dance? Us athletes are rather obligated to maintain our diet at all times.”

“Sakusa Kiyoomi, did ya just imply that I’m fat?”

Sakusa laughs. “Never.”

For all the dance lessons Shouyou had taken with the neighborhood aunties, nothing could’ve prepared him for the storm who was Sakusa Kiyoomi. He who swept him off his feet, now led him across the wooden floorboards with an impeccable form.

His posture was perfect, as was the ability to easily lead Shouyou without faltering in their steps. Trust Sakusa and his ways to make Shouyou hate his height less at the convenience of hearing his heartbeats up close. 

For someone who danced the foxtrot with so much grace and rhythm, Sakusa was actually just as nervous as him. And Shouyou smiles at the thought, at the slight vulnerability they share.

The song finished, but the dance was far from over as the quartet easily shifted to a softer and slower tune. Sakusa follows suit, as does Shouyou, changing their quickstep to a simple waltz. Both were certain they would get a stomach ache afterward. 

Shouyou hums to the lyrics of _Mine,_ finding endearment in how relatable it was to their situation. He, a careful brother to careless ones, a flight risk Sakusa had made worth taking. The best thing he could ever call his.

“You are my undoing, Miya Shouyou.” Sakusa whispers, sending Shouyou’s heart in a frenzy and head up in the clouds. They stop dancing, taking a moment to look into each other’s eyes and down their lips. Then Shouyou’s hands travel from the expanse of Sakusa’s broad shoulders up to his nape while Sakusa cups both sides of his cheeks.

“As you are to me, Sakusa Kiyoomi-san.”

Their lips met, awkward and fumbling for the right angle but eager to feel over and over again. It took a few clumsy tries, with their teeth clashing and nose bumping, their laughters in between, before finally getting it right.

Their first kiss shared under a hundred fairy lights in a room filled with serenade music and servers watching them with delight.

* * *

Shouyou doesn’t immediately come home by then, opting to spend the last hours of the generous night in the balcony of Skytree as they lovingly gaze unto the stars, their hands never letting go. It was the only warmth they shared other than in the comforts of Sakusa’s blazer over Shouyou’s lithe frame while his scarf wraps the litter of red marks scattered around his boyfriend’s neck.

_His boyfriend._

“I never got to thank you, for what you’ve done for us during Spring Nationals. I heard you got severely punished for it though.”

Shouyou tries not to wince. _Severely_ was an exaggeration, but this wasn’t the time to tell Sakusa that he was demoted to pyramid base as well. “From who?”

“Suna-san.”

Ah, that picture of the freshman squad kneeling while facing the walls with their arms up like preschoolers that went viral in VInstagram posted by the one and only, Suna Rintarou. Trust Inarizaki’s middle-blocker to expose the faces of the rebel cheerleaders behind Spring Nationals’ quarterfinals.

“Of course.” He sighs. “But I don’t regret it, so don’t ya try apologizin’ for it.”

“I wasn’t planning to. Rather, I’d like to thank you. With Iizuna-san out of commission, our team were a bit distracted.”

“Oh, I think ya were far from distracted.” Shouyou laughs. “Is that what this date is for then, to thank me?”

“More or less, but I also wanted to spend some time with you in person. Our letters could only do so much.” 

“Okay, one last question.” Shouyou braces himself, ready to be told off for killing the mood. “Why did you reply to me?” 

Sakusa sucks in his breath, unlacing his fingers from the tangle of their hand holding to meet him straight in the eyes. “That day I ran into you, I knew who you were. Well, half of the teams that went to National do. Miya does have a habit of showing you off.”

“Wait, does he still carry a picture of me in his wallet?”

“Your third-grade picture, I presume.”

“That son of a bi-

“I’d rather you not cuss your mother.” Sakusa chuckles. “But even then, I couldn’t leave you like that, not with the mess I’ve indirectly caused. As for the letters, I admit I was very reluctant to reply until Motoya made me do it. Said it was rude.”

“... So it was out of obligation then?”

“More or less. And then you bribed me with those homemade treats, and you should know I don’t have a sweet tooth.”

“B-bribed?! I did no such thing.” Shouyou feigns offense. 

“At one point, I began to speculate what you put in there. The right amount of sugar aside, was there perhaps a drop of love potion in it?”

“Of course not. All my ingredients are from Gran’s farm.” he stops himself from listing in fear that Sakusa would be able to replicate his candies and no longer need his services. “Are ya tryin’ ta get the recipe out of me?”

“It depends, is it working?”

“Never!”

Shouyou leans on his shoulder, and then, “Do you regret it then?”

“I think it’s a little too late for regrets, Shouyou.”

“Then yer stuck with me forever, Sakusa-san! No backsies.”

“That I am.”

It didn’t really show but Sakusa was definitely smiling under his facemask.

* * *

Shouyou was no stranger to coming home at the crack of dawn, in admittance to the fact he used to sneak out with some members of the squad to bonfire at the outskirts of town as nothing screams _cheerleader parties_ more than that. He had always prided himself for never getting caught, but this time, his luck had finally run out.

This happens as he climbs up the rose arbor and into the windows of his room, only to almost stumble back out at the sight of a pair of very angry, older brothers and disappointed parents in their sleepwear. 

His scream was _so loud_ it could’ve woken the entire neighborhood.

“Nii-chan!” he squawks, only using that word in hope of appeasing them. 

“Did ya have a fun trip, Shouyou-kun?” Atsumu smiles so wide it reaches his eyes, which gives Shouyou the chills. This was not good.

“I, uh, just finished jogging. Didn’t wanna go through the door so I wouldn’t wake anyone up.”

Osamu spun his swivel chair to reveal his best friend with his arms and legs bound by what looked like Atsumu’s iconic, strawberry socks.

“Sorry.” Riseki mouths.

“Try again,” says Osamu. 


	4. Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, extending this to one more chapter.  
> ( Last na, promise XD )
> 
> And massive thank you to [Sass_misstress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sass_mistress/pseuds/Sass_mistress) for beta reading this chapter ❤  
> Enjoy and Happy reading!

Life goes on for Miya Shouyou, who was now a second-year student of the elite Inarizaki High and no longer forced to dance silly to the beat of the marching band’s drum. 

In fact, their squad was booming _with so much_ popularity after the stunt they’ve pulled last Spring Nationals, increasing the number of new recruits three folds. That and qualifying for High School Cheer Regionals, making them too busy to tend to the other clubs’ tournaments.

Shouyou’s routine became more rigorous since then, determined to keep his shape in top condition. He would often stay behind after practice hours, even at the expense of cleaning and locking up by himself just to run a few more drills and additional laps. Some days the freshmen would join him, other times their captain would forcibly kick them out. 

Now, he was still grounded given the events that transpired that terrible night, but Shouyou was certain he was still abiding by the rules of his house arrest- do his morning jogs, go to school, practice, then home. Osamu never did clarify his curfew hours, a loophole, and a grave mistake on the middle Miya’s part, but it’s not like there’s anything much waiting for him back home. 

  
  


So what if meals at the Miya Household no longer felt warm and every conversation was like teetering on thin ice? It wasn’t his fault his older brothers couldn’t bring it in themselves to apologize. 

Shouyou feels bad for their parents and the awkward small talks on the table as an attempt to diffuse the on-going tension between him and the twins, but Atsumu and Osamu were barely making an effort to meet them halfway so it was all but a waste. 

So what if Osamu no longer makes his lunch boxes? There’s always bread in the cafeteria. Though some days, Shouyou just opted not to eat at all, thinking he could afford to lose a few pounds anyway. 

So what if Riseki avoids him like the plague? Atsumu and Osamu were his club captains; they’d make his life a living hell should he openly oppose them. It’s not like he was siding with the twins on this. _He wouldn’t._ Because Shouyou wasn’t in the wrong this time. 

So what if the Miya trio no longer walk to school together anymore, let alone talk in their own home. This was what Shouyou wanted, right? The independence he had long craved. 

_“Sakusa Kiyoomi.”_

_“‘Tsumu-nii, I can explain-_

_“For an entire year, you’ve been sneaking behind our backs with that freakin’ weasel!”_

_On cue, Osamu reveals the evidence by pouring a mountain of letters and pulling up the yellow jersey jacket hidden in the depths of Shouyou's unused laundry basket, Sakusa’s home address, and the name ‘Itachiyama Institute’ in bold prints mocking them._

_“What the hell, Shou?” Osamu hissed. “What on earth compelled ya ta go out with someone who's clearly too old for ya and doesn’t even go to our school? A complete, fuckin’ stranger.”_

_This makes the youngest Miya’s blood boil. How dare they assume that Sakusa was a bad person! And too old? The twins were basically the same age as him and Shouyou a year younger. Just because they were rivals on the court doesn’t mean whatever unresolved issues they had should extend to Shouyou._

_“I’m sixteen, ‘Samu-nii, sixteen. I am more than capable of makin’ my own decisions. That being said, who I date is none of yer business.” Gone were the butterflies in his stomach or the exhaustion from the long train ride. His emotions were now a whirlwind of anger and frustration._

_“Oh, really?” Atsumu snorts. “Capable meaning sneakin’ out miles away from home and into the city then coming back dead in the night as ya please?”_

_“Maybe I wouldn’t have ta lie if ya stopped coddlin’ me like I’m some kind of fragile kit.” Shouyou clenches his fist tight. He was so mad that he couldn’t filter what came out of his mouth next. “When will ya realize that I don’t need ya all the time?!”_

_The room falls silent and the atmosphere turns cold. Then,_

_“‘Tsumu, don’t-_

_“Atsumu-”_

_The eldest Miya sucks in his breath. “Ya don’t need me? Ya can’t do shit without me. Without any of us. Ya really think ya got into the cheerleading team easily without getting’ harassed by a number of homophobes?” Atsumu laughs cruelly as he approaches his younger brother, stalking him akin to a predator on its prey._

_“Atsumu.” Even their father’s stern voice was drowned out by Atsumu’s stomping._

_“Do ya have any idea how many times we hafta hold yer hand in and out of school, heck, wherever you go, just to ward off any potential creeps followin’ ya? It’s like ya never learned from that incident with yer middle school stalker.”_

_“Atsumu-san, please-”_

_“Poor little Shouyou-kun, he doesn’t even know how dependent he actually is.”_

_Osamu holds him by the arm in an attempt to stop him from getting any closer to their brother, which results in Atsumu’s shadow towering over Shouyou’s shaking form._

_“Screw you; it’s me who doesn't need ya.”_

_Shouyou chokes on his sob, but the frustration burned the pain faster than he could rethink his retort._ _“I hate you.” He spats, shoving Atsumu away. “I don’t ever want ta see ya again.”_

_It wasn’t the first time Shouyou had said those words, more so often whenever he threw a tantrum at the expense of Atsumu’s overbearing and strict nature, but this was undoubtedly the moment he truly meant it. And from the look of the eldest Miya’s pain-stricken face, he knew that too._

_Atsumu then walks away with their parents hot on his trail. Shouyou doesn’t even flinch at the sounds of furniture breaking over the yelling in an attempt to calm the eldest Miya down._

_Osamu on the other hand looks at him with disappointment._

_“Yer grounded. No more letters, no more of this.” He picks up Sakusa’s jacket to solidify his point. “From now on, it's school and practice then home.”_

_Osamu slams the door on his way out, effectively muffling the chaos from the hallways._

_“Shou,” says Riseki, still tied to his swivel chair. “You done fucked up this time.”_

Shouyou raises the volume of his cool-down music so high that he wouldn’t be surprised if he finds his eardrums bleeding later. He then alternates between singing the lyrics of _A Picture to Burn_ so loud it scares the neighborhood cat away and picking up his pace despite how uncoordinated and out of rhythm his jogging was, all for the sake of driving that dreadful memory away- a trick he learned from Sakusa who claims that the mind can’t process singing and thinking at the same time. 

But then the thought _of him_ sent Shouyou spiraling down to another lane. 

It has been two months since that night. Two months since the cold war in his house and restlessly stopping by their mailbox every morning to check for any baby blue-colored envelopes amongst the bills and newspapers, even though the mailman’s tight smile from when he had run into him earlier already gave Shouyou the answer he was looking for. 

So what if Sakusa Kiyoomi had not sent a letter since that enchanting night? While Shouyou knew his address by heart, it would’ve meant more to him if Sakusa reached out first. God knows he craves comfort or any semblance of normalcy right now, anything to distract him from his brothers’ silent treatment. But instead, Shouyou vents his frustration doing backflips. 

Anything to keep him preoccupied than worrying how Sakusa must think that everything was a mistake. 

That Shouyou was a mistake. 

He slams the mailbox shut. 

So what if he didn’t get his perfect fantasy if Sakusa thought him obsessed and _crazy_ and freaked out on him? There was no time for tears with regionals right around the corner. If Itachiyama’s ace didn’t want to have anything to do with Shouyou again, then good riddance he supposed. 

With an hour left, Shouyou scrambles back home to take a quick shower, change into his clean uniform and get to school via bicycle, as he now avoids the bus ride with his brothers. The sooner he gets to morning practice, the better. 

**2013, High School Cheer Regionals**

Miya Shouyou woke up brimming with excitement, eager to get his hair done and to put on Inarizaki’s new cheer uniform- burgundy shells and pants with shiny black linings, courtesy of their captain’s endless badgering towards the school board in complaints that the color white had been easily picking up stains from the previous competitions. She threatened that unless _they_ wanted to pay for the entire squad’s laundry, a change of wardrobe should be a more viable option. 

“Shou-chan, are ya alright?”

Shouyou scrunches his nose upon remembering a flash of yellow and the sweet smell of citrus. He was definitely going to avoid the vending machine today. 

“Yeah, just nervous.”

“Could hardly believe that. Especially after that performance at Spring Nationals-

“That was ages ago!” 

Ah, that’s right; they were just unwelcomed and intrusive memories. Shouyou had more things to focus on other than his brothers’ indifference when he left their house without breakfast or the wistful thoughts of finding Itachiyama’s ace amongst the crowd to watch him today. They were just one of the many distractions he shouldn’t allow to get to him on one of the most important days of his life.

They weren’t important to him as much as he wasn’t important to them. 

Instead, his attention pivots onto the nerve-wracking trip to Tokyo, on his teammates’ uncontained excitement as they jump in and out of their seats, capturing all the wonders his eyes could hold as they step foot onto the vast gymnasium alongside the elites from across the country. 

Shouyou couldn’t stop grinning the entire time since the program started. He watches every cheerleading performance starry-eyed with admiration and a mouthful of criticism- an unfortunate habit he has gotten from his brothers’ heckling towards every volleyball player he thinks is beneath them. 

Not even their new teammates were spared. 

And when the foxes were finally called, and the entire squad ran amok on the stage. Lights out, starting formation on. 

The captain gives them the signal- a loud clasp with the yelling of a single word before they start their very, upbeat number. The rest of the squad follows with high-v approaches and pikes without missing a lyric. 

Admittedly their choices of words were _a little tacky_ for Shouyou’s taste, but his opinion doesn’t count considering the only passable genre for him was a Taylor Swift number. And the squad collectively agreed that they were _not_ doing that on regionals. 

Traitors, all of them. 

After the cheer, their formation breaks into a wider range in preparation for the stunts. They do a combination of back handsprings, round-offs, and small lifts all the while maintaining their preppy smiles. 

The momentum was good, flawless even, that the clean executions of the complicated steps were undoubtedly racking them a good amount of points. Inarizaki would definitely earn a spot for nationals should they keep up at this pace.

That was until Shouyou started to feel _so heavy_ that he was lagging one count behind mid-performance. He bites the inside of his cheeks. They were at the peak of the routine and he couldn’t afford to make any mistake. 

With his pride wounded, Shouyou then skips a few steps in transitioning his movements, a cheat technique he once taught the freshmen squad should they fall out of rhythm with the marching band. He could only hope that the judges wouldn’t catch on. 

Ten seconds left. 

He sighs in relief when it was time for the basket toss, just a little more to the end. 

The spotter was already in his space, giving the bases the signal to start their lifts and for Shouyou to jump as high as he could, adding a spin in motion. He doesn’t have time to catch his breath before he is once more hoisted into the air in a heel stretch. 

The music stops and just before they were completely done, Shouyou catches a glimpse of curly dark locks with a signature facemask in tow amongst the crowd.

Shouyou stutters, immediately struggling to maintain his form as the bases holding him up a good two meters in the air also starts to panic. They urge him to stay still but his mind was too clouded with a thick haze of hope at the moment. 

Gone was the adrenaline from the performance, replaced with his anxiety acting up. 

Was that him? Did he come after all? His heart started to beat erratically, desperate to call Sakusa out despite his name being caught up in his throat. 

  
  


“SHOUYOU!!!’

  
  


It wasn’t until Shouyou felt the white pain in his head that came after the sickening _crack!_ did he realize how high he had fallen. His last thoughts were of star lights, soft music, and Sakusa Kiyoomi before succumbing to the darkness. 

* * *

Fatigued. Overworked. Dehydrated. Stressed. Poor diet. 

They were the kick-starters of his raging fever, one he had apparently failed to notice three days prior to the competition. It could’ve been the reason why he saw the ghost of Sakusa Kiyoomi cheering on him. 

What a cosmic joke.

Shouyou clenches his fist tight as the doctor lists his condition in a monotonous voice as if Inarizaki’s cheerleading squad didn’t lose on their first regionals for a very long time. And while no one blamed him, they couldn’t hide the fact that falling off from a stunt gave a bad impression to all the present judges and athletes alike. 

And as if that wasn’t humiliating enough, the eldest Miya who was in the audience the entire time, had to sprint across the stage to his aid, barking orders at the _scrubs_ who were too stunned to call for an ambulance. 

Great, now Shouyou was both a liability and an asshole. 

He was immediately sent home with promises of recovery, but screams and lashes out the moment he steps into his room. He claws his at hair, his shoulders and arms before raging _to destroy_ anything he could get his hands on. 

“Hey what are you-?!”

“GET OUT!” He throws a random object, his penholders, in Atsumu’s direction. It breaks into a hundred pieces. 

“GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!” 

Atsumu, however, does the complete opposite and rushes to his side instead, locking him in a tight embrace accompanied by a string of reassuring whispers. 

Shouyou screams and pounds his fists into his chest, but the eldest Miya barely flinches at his thrashing.

Atsumu holds him tight and tighter until Shouyou feels his voice give out. 

He cries for another hour or so before falling into a dreamless sleep. 

  
  



	5. You Belong With ME

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, this was originally a one-shot.  
> Once again, sending all my love to [Sass_mistress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sass_mistress/pseuds/Sass_mistress) for also beta reading this chapter. Thank you for your hard work! And thank you all for keeping up with this fic. 
> 
> Enjoy and Happy reading!

**2013, InterHigh Tournament**

Inarizaki’s captain, Miya Atsumu, would’ve gotten through his fourth flawless, consecutive service ace if it wasn’t for his baby brother obnoxiously cheering for their opponents. 

His baby brother, who was supposed to be on house arrest, but instead was on the bleachers with his bright red pompoms sporting the million-dollar smile that should’ve only been reserved for _their_ team, in _a goddamn skirt._

“You can do it, Kiyoomi-san!”

“Shouyou-kun, what the fuck?!”

Now, how did _that_ happen? 

How did the infamous red-headed cheerleader end up going viral via VInstagram, courtesy of Inarizaki’s gossip mongrel of a middle blocker, for disrupting another match, _again_? 

How did a cliché, rom-com scene that should’ve only existed behind the screen or in books Atsumu _does not_ keep under his bed, come to life for the eyes of a thousand lucky spectators and live on National TV? 

The answer was simple. The answer was the youngest Miya brother, who had once again proved that being _stupid in love_ made you lose a decent amount of shame and a large number of brain cells at the same time. Stakes’ high and waters’ rough. 

He could only hope that the second-hand embarrassment would burn faster than Suna reconsidering his career choice at the expense of gaining a million followers within a single day. 

Again, how the hell did that happen? 

Going back two peaceful days ago in the lovely Miya Household were the newly reconciled brothers, messily eating their meals across the breakfast table with no regard to the volume of their conversations or the food stains on their white uniform. Atsumu argues that they’ll be changing into their jerseys later anyway whilst Osamu wonders if it’s still socially acceptable to just _lick it off._

It’s not. 

But their parents were _so relieved_ that they hadn’t bothered chastising any of them for eating like mannerless Neanderthals. The house has been quiet for too long anyway. 

Because at the end of the day, Atsumu, Osamu, and Shouyou were still siblings. No spoken apologies needed, just a thick wall built within cold months of estrangement to break, no matter how long it took.

Shouyou was still recovering from the entire ordeal- the silent treatment, the overexertion on his body and mending his broken heart. It gave him time to think that while he would never admit it out loud, he was grateful that Atsumu and Osamu decided to watch the competition that day, even though it was an epic moment that marked a huge _‘I told ya so’_ for biting more than he could chew, 

Atsumu held him tight for an interval of hours during his destructive breakdown, with Osamu and a bagful of strawberry pudding joining them later. 

He was grateful for his big brothers; there was only so much resentment his heart could hold. 

But now that their relationship was mended, the youngest Miya decides to test the waters again. 

He gives the twins a quick peck on their cheeks for good luck as they leave for school and to Tokyo in hopes of bringing home the Interhigh trophy. Atsumu becomes a sputtering and ditzy mess from the unexpected gesture while Osamu ruffles his hair before bending at his height to whisper, “Okay, what do ya want?”

Shouyou grins. Gotcha. “I don’t know what yer talkin’ bout, _Nii-chan_.”

Osamu groans, knowing exactly where this was going. He wasn’t the smarter twin, heck, the smartest Miya sibling for nothing. “Ya want to come with.”

It wasn’t a question, so Shouyou doesn’t bother beating around the bush anymore, thus confirming it with the eager nods of his head. 

“No. Yer still sick.” 

“Stop treatin’ me like I’m a child.” Shouyou pouts, hoping his expression to be cute enough to drop Osamu’s guard down. “And I really, _really_ want ta watch yer matches today.” 

“And yer askin’ me ‘cause?”

“ _You_ grounded me in the first place, so maybe ya could, _ya know_ , unground me?” Osamu doesn’t look convinced in the slightest so Shouyou resorts to Plan B which involves puppy eyes and shameless begging. 

“Please! Even if it’s just for a day. I’ll go _crazy_ if I hafta look at another math problem again.” 

“Ya really should be studying though.” The middle Miya sighs, running his locks across his scalp. He needs to stop dying his hair if he wasn’t going to be as committed as Atsumu in taking care of his roots. “Fine.”

“Really?!” 

Shouyou can already tell that Osamu was regretting his decision, but then again when has he ever said no to him? “But only fer day one! And yer not allowed ta cheer with the freshmen and the marching band.”

They’re glad that Atsumu was out of earshot. God knows he will fight Osamu tooth and nail at any indication where he feels his authority as the eldest child being questioned. 

“As if I would join the tributes.” He huffs, then tackles Osamu in a bear hug. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“Don’t make me regret this.” Osamu groans. “And don’t tell ‘Tsumu!” 

It is Shouyou’s father who begrudgingly takes him to the gymnasium, as he was not allowed to join the others in the bus without risking the eldest Miya finding out he had broken his probation. 

Shouyou, in what he calls his artwork of a disguise- an oversized sweater, fake glasses he got off a kiosk and his mother’s sunhat, makes himself at home hidden in plain sight at the darkest side of the bleachers. He watches the intense rallies at a safe distance from Inarizaki’s marching band or any other volleyball idiot who would rat him out to Atsumu. 

Riseki instantly recognizes him in the hallways and tries his hardest not to freak the fuck out. 

Now most people who had the pleasure of making his acquaintance would think of him all sunshine and sweet to the extent that they’d sometimes forget he was _loud_ by nature, that he is a Miya. Abrasive yet admirable. Warm, radiant, and at the same time blinding. The natural allure of his presence doesn’t quiet the lack of his physical appearance. 

So Shouyou cheers, claps and stomps, and even yell at a volume so ear-piercing that someone almost calls security on him. Not that it silences him. He has been doing this since primary school, after all. 

Perhaps it was a bit too late to realize that Shouyou has been a cheerleader long before he officially wore the uniform to become one. Before the cartwheels, the yells or the thrill of being lifted into the air as if he was flying, there was simply a clementine-haired boy who was cheering for his amazing brothers from the sidelines.

This was no different. 

But then came the final match of day 1 and Shouyou knew that something was off. Inarizaki looked utterly spent, and Itachiyama was faltering behind. The first rally was _so dreadful_ it looked as if the players were only dragging their feet to get the entire thing over with. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi, now sporting the #4 and still the team’s ace, signals their coach for a timeout in hopes of breaking the losing momentum.

Shouyou’s eyes follow his tired form and thinks of how much he should hate him, wish for them _to lose_ , yet his traitorous heart kept beating for the man who ghosted him. The man whose elegant words scribbled in baby blue letters made Shouyou fall _hard_ , who ate his lemondrops despite not having a single sweet tooth in him, who took him out on the most romantic, candlelight dinner with the best view all of Tokyo could ever offer. 

_Damn you,_ Shouyou curses before running towards Inarizaki’s freshmen cheering squad, demanding to borrow a spare uniform and a set of pompoms. He was in such a hurry (and they were too surprised when he had suddenly ambushed them in an oversized sun hat) that he had grabbed the wrong bag- one with a set that fits his size but not for his gender. 

Somebody out there _definitely_ owes him an apology. 

“Ah, screw it.” He resigns to his fate the moment he pulls the pleated white skirt up and zips up Sakusa’s jacket. He had originally bought it with him in hopes of returning it for closure, but now he was wearing said offending article in front of the whole crowd to see. 

This brings him to the present- cheeks burning with humiliation as he earns a few wolf whistles from the people who recognize him from last Spring Nationals. 

Itachiyama’s supporters cry at him as if he was their savior while Inarizakis are utterly outraged, Atsumu most especially after screwing up a serve. 

In another time, Shouyou would’ve laughed at the comical scene, and perhaps he will one day when he reminisces of how aggressive he was with his first love. But right now he steels himself not to falter. He raises his pompoms to signal an impromptu cheer easy for the weasels to follow through- three stomps, one loud clasp, and a catchy phrase that effectively gives Itachiyama’s players the motivation they need. 

Sakusa’s looks at him with fascination before grinning, something considered to be extremely out of character for a very reserved person such as himself. Shouyou finds himself smiling back. 

One last ride for the road. 

“Thank you.” Sakusa mouths before shifting his focus back on the court, eyes burning with determination _to win_. And from the looks of it, all of Inarizaki were too. 

* * *

Itachiyama loses that round, Inarizaki advances to day 2’s quarterfinals, though Shouyou was certain they’d win the entire tournament with how determined Atsumu was going to bulldoze every match.

Granted, half of the v-league saw his traitorous, baby brother in a skirt, cheering for another team _again_ , which somehow gives him a free pass to take his frustrations out on everyone. 

“Hey.” Sakusa calls out.

“Hey.” Shouyou responds without looking up from the vending machine. He could see Sakusa staring at him from the reflection as well as realizing that he had not changed out of his outfit yet. Damn it. 

“You were great out there.”

“Thanks.”

“And at cheer regionals too. I, uh, I was there.”

“Oh? Good to know I wasn’t hallucinating after all.” 

The conversation is drier than Atsumu’s attempt at baking coals he claims to be cookies.

“I wrote to you everyday.” Sakusa blurts out and Shouyou’s eyes widen in shock. 

_“Everyday.”_ He repeats dumbly.

Sakusa nods. “I’ve been meaning to send them, _I really did_ , but I’ve been told to back off for a bit, seeing as I’ve caused a strain in your relationship between your brothers.” 

“Oh my god, did they-?”

“No not the twins. It was Suna-san who had reached out to Motoya sometime after that night.” 

“Oh.” He should’ve known Suna was more invested in his love life than the sport he had been playing for years. Shouyou was _so_ going to do some digging on him for blackmail material. 

“And now?”

“I wanted to win first, to show your brothers, _to show everyone_ , that I was worthy of you.” Sakusa sighs. “But I lost. I lost and I’m here regardless to let you know that I lo- 

Shouyou laughs, not sunshine and sweet but cruel like Atsumu. “Sakusa Kiyoomi, do ya really think that’s an excuse ta leave me high and dry? I’ve not heard from you in _months_! Every day I kept wondering when you’ll write back, or why you’ve stopped. I kept thinking what I’ve done wrong.”

“You’ve done nothing of sorts!”

“Damn right I didn’t! But yer flimsy excuse to prove somethin’ wasn’t for me, it was _for you_. It was for whatever you have against my brothers. Did it ever occur to ya that those things shouldn’t affect our relationship?” Shouyou furiously wipes the fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “Or perhaps I was too forthcoming about the entire thing; maybe there wasn’t a relationship in the first place.”

His harsh words strike Sakusa like lightning and Shouyou has to take a moment to stop himself from apologizing. 

“What I feel for ya is mine. What you feel for me is yours. What we had was ours, but that doesn’t give ya the right to solely decide what’s best for it.” 

“I’m sorry, Shouyou, I’m so sorry. I- ” 

“I deserve more than that.” He slowly removes Sakusa’s jacket before handing it back to him. “So forget it. _Forget me_. It’s wasn’t hard the first time, and it certainly won’t be any harder now.” 

He takes his soda and leaves without another word.

This was okay. No more wishful schoolboy crush and rose-tinted glasses. Romeo rode a white horse but didn’t get to Juliet in time, so what makes him think that Sakusa is not capable of doing the same? Their story may have started off with a lovestruck damsel-in-distress and a prince, but the doesn’t mean it has to end with that too. 

If anything, Shouyou’s chest feels lighter as he walks away without looking back. The honey citrus soda has never tasted so bitter in his mouth. 

  
  


**2014, High School Cheer Nationals**

“Do we have to?” Shouyou groans. His muscles are sore, eyes puffy from all the crying and just _too drained_ to deal with anyone right now. He’ll give anything to go home and cry himself to sleep to a sad Taylor Swift playlist in the comforts of his orange quilt. 

“Yes.” Osamu drags his blindfolded brother towards the entrance of the stadium. “Ya lost the bet. Time ta fulfill yer end of the bargain.”

Ah, he and his big mouth. When Inarizaki had qualified for Nationals, Shouyou decided to run his mouth by declaring their win on every scrub team he had encountered. And while Atsumu approved of his haughty behavior, Osamu _did not._

Because his twin was insufferable and conceited enough, he says, and he didn’t need to deal with another one. 

Hence the bet was made, a plan to knock Shouyou down a peg or two. Osamu’s conditions were, should their squad place any number lower than fifth then he would have to _get drenched_ by a bucketful of orange paint in front of the entire population of Inarizaki to see. 

And tenth is a _shitty_ place to be in right now given his predicament. 

Shouyou is a sore loser, and while he has had his fair shares of losses competing over the years, nothing can compare to having a taste of the national stage. He knows that once is never going to be enough for him. Ever. 

“All right ya scrubs, lay it all down on me. But mark my words, I’ll make ya regret this next time!” 

He holds in his breath, expecting a wave of slimy liquid. But instead, Osamu pulls the blindfold off while Atsumu supports his back so he doesn’t tumble over. 

“What-

“Congratulations, baby brother.” He grins as Shouyou’s eyes widen at the big crowd surrounding Itachiyama’s entire marching band that was assembled at the bottom flight. They play and Shouyou easily recognizes their tune, and tries not to laugh at the irony of it. 

_You Belong With Me._ How typical. 

Was it not that long ago when Shouyou wore a short skirt to cheer on the ace from their rival school, dreaming about the day when he wakes up and finds that what he’s looking for has been here the whole time? 

And of course, leading them was none other than an extremely constipated-looking Sakusa Kiyoomi- the man who _did not_ give up on Shouyou even after the fallout a year ago and decided to go the extra mile in the art of negotiation. 

Or in Atsumu’s crude words, _bribery._

While Shouyou doesn’t bother getting himself involved with whatever Sakusa and the twins were doing, he knows that waking up to a mountain of baby-blue envelopes he had refused prior to the incident has something to do with their so-called negotiation. Either Sakusa had succeeded in wooing the twins to his favor or he had climbed onto Shouyou’s window sill while he was dead asleep in the middle of the night. 

Yet against his better judgment, Shouyou reads all 365 letters addressed to him. 

Between the sleepless nights and distracted practice hours, he reads the beautifully constructed paragraphs. Sakusa would start his sentences rambling about his entire day, of his cousin’s antics or their team’s progress. Sometimes it would even be about the neighborhood dog that had followed him home, tempting Sakusa to keep her. 

But at the end of every letter, he writes to Shouyou as the object of his affection. As a complicated poem of sunrise and sunsets that Sakusa would religiously read over and over again. 

“Miya Shouyou!” Sakusa removes his facemask, leaving him vulnerable to the germs of a hundred people lingering in the air, before raising his cardboard to reveal a huge _“I LOVE YOU”_ written in bold prints. 

Shouyou is _weak_ , but who can blame him when the man who had stolen his heart once is after it again? The man who has gone above and beyond his comfort zone- apologetic, affectionate and _downright romantic_ in public playing the lovesick fool for the entire world to see. 

All for their relationship. _All for Shouyou._

“Sakusa Kiyoomi!” He shouts back. “YOU ARE MY UNDOING.” 

The effect is immediate as Sakusa drops the cardboard and runs towards him. 

Shouyou stands still, allowing Sakusa’s rough hands to settle on his cheeks before closing the gap between their lips. The kiss was as clumsy as the one they had shared that night in a high-rise balcony blanketed by the stars, but they loved every moment of it nonetheless. 

“I should hate ya.” Shouyou mutters into Sakusa’s chest after pulling away. “I should slap ya on the face right now.” 

“I’d rather you kiss me again instead.” Sakusa grins. 

Shouyou rolls his eyes but happily obliges. 

**BONUS SCENE**

“Hey, ‘Tsumu.”

“Yeah, Samu?”

“Shouldn’t we stop them or somethin’? Or make ‘em keep it at PG-13 at least.” 

Atsumu grimaces. “It is rather disturbin’ how they _conveniently_ forgot that everyone’s still watchin’ and- HEY! Stick that tongue back where it belongs, Sakusa Kiyoomi!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of this fic ^^ 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are very much appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATE SCHED  
> Chapter2- FEB 17  
> Chapter3- FEBD 20


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